PERSPECTIVE
South Asia's truly awesome disaster -- so engulfing, merciless, so unexpected -- should stop everyone on Earth in amazed suspension for awhile, by the sheer magnitude and deadly force of disrupted Nature -- and yet again, how everything is connected. But in our sheltered lifetimes, we hardly expect a Pompeii-like cataclysm to hit us, tucked in our safe little worlds, dealing with those comparatively minor irritations that we can so easily turn into major frustrations: I have a knee that quite abruptly began hurting badly, constantly painful for no apparent reason other than the possibility that I'm developing osteoarthritis in my advanced middle age. Once the Tsunami became global news, I barely noticed the soreness cramping my walks with Buckwheat, except when I wandered away from the TV, for instance, and then had to take an Aleve or a 600-mg. ibuprophen. Both of which, I gather, are now deemed dangerous for the ol' center of bodily life, the heart. Somehow I suspect my heart is far more vulnerable to the news of disasters that take so many lives so quickly, than any medication. Surely evangelical Christians are seeing this as fulfilling the End Times prophecy. New Agers are preparing for the pole shift. For agnostics, the arbitrariness of life stays central to their ideology. I see it as confirmation of Nature's authority over destiny. Where does God fit in? Remember everything is connected. Amen.

ECKER'S BIG 'N' TALL
Merry Christmas! With that out of the way, I want to let ya in on a Christmas tradition around here. Don and I usually splurge on one necessary or not-so-necessary item for the both of us to enjoy. This year it's the boat, of course, which Santa delivered nearly six months before Christmas. Being the overgrown children that we are, the boat wasn't quite enough once the our Christmas tree was set up. So Don began fantasizing out loud--for a bread-making machine. Already our kitchen counter is clogged with arguably superfluous items--electric can opener, four-slot toaster, coffee maker with timer, 5-speed blender, basket of decaying fruit--but I'll be damned if we didn't find a Kenmore breadmaker on sale at Sears and I whipped out the check book, grumbling, "Oh, okay, but that's it!!" Well. For his part, Don sees the thing as the kitchen equivalent of a new computer game. We've had at least one new loaf of bread each day since getting the thing. And this is no ordinary bread! Ralphs had a sale on bread flour (99 cents), which is enhanced with extra rising stuff. Plus the recipe book for most loaves calls for yeast. Bread flour + yeast + the magical mechanism of bread machine = Ecker's big'n'tall loaves of bread! (See above). Are they delicious? Incredibly. Are they chewy? Only just perfectly ... Does Buckwheat like them? Oh, yip! Are we recklessly scarfing down the carbs and putting on pounds? No comment! (Hey--give us a break! It's Christmas!)

VEGAS VAGARIES
When the going gets tough, the tough go to Vegas! Well, things weren't really that tough when I decided to bail with my pal Catherine--who incidentally looks a little porky these days, but she doesn't read this blog, and anyway, who am I to talk?--for a quick two-day escape in the twinkly, tinkly neon city. I took 3 pairs of socks and a little money. Didn't use the former (temp was generally in the high 60s) and lost some of the latter, and now I am simply mystified: I went there expressly to get my jackpot, but I didn't get it! How could that be? I was certain I was going to win that jackpot! So, since my return, I've been in a state of utter perplexity. But the trip was the usual fun we have in Sin City, Don's loathing of the place notwithstanding. When I say "we" I mean anyone with me but him. Besides, there were great Christmas trees beyond the regulation neon.
Anyway, my greatest sin this time was learning keno while drinking beer then losing five dollars twice--thats $10, enough for me to buy Don a new Christmas stocking. But rather than be drenched in self-loathing and guilt, I went and won $30 at another casino, then lost some money playing Blackjack. But at least I had the courage to boldly sit down with other players, who are notoriously mean to newbies, which I totally am. Was. A newbie, that is. I'm just damn proud of having graduated from the Wheel of Fortune slot machines, which still tempt me no end.
We stayed at the Monte Carlo, a lovely hotel-casino which had no sunshine gracing the pool area until midafternoon. That was a trip--a chilly one, until hitting the jacuzzi. Only a handful of other people there--three pale, talkative Brits obviously used to swimming and sunbathing in the cold. So, the upshots: No jackpot :? -- I lost my sunglasses :[ -- I can swim in a tepid pool in less than 80-degree weather :o -- I am now an almost-fluid Blackjack player ;) and, lo and behold, I didn't come back completely empty handed! I now own a New York, New York souvenir T-shirt by playing a long time on their slots. Oh, yeah. I'm a winner!

CLOVIS AT NIGHT
When you first arrive in downtown Fresno, the best treats are (1) a card casino right in the heart of the city; and (2) an old Security Bank building obviously preserved to offer the city some historical respect beyond its legacy as a stopover for grape pickers. Snideness asideness, Fresno has grown, is not that bad, and save for the lack of mountains or ocean has something to offer everyone. Everyone has to eat and drive. In Fresno, you can eat and drive! On a related subject, the Purple Heart gang we met up there were some of the nicest folks ever, and wish to do everything possible to help wounded veterans who have yet to shake off the trauma--physically and mentally--of their combat experiences. We learned a tremendous amount about what it means to have fought in a war in defense of this nation and how these veterans can receive due compensation for their injuries. This is something we should have explored long ago, but--(and this, in general, sums up my view of life experiences)--it is what it is, and things happen when they happen. End of story.
My most aggravating fun was the Saturday night we followed an SUV full of seasoned vets in search of a steakhouse. Listening to an endless pablum CD of Neil Diamond, we drove several miles to Clovis. Don't ask me what that town is known for--beyond long boulevards lined with every fast food joint known to man and dozens of mini-malls. We passed two or three steakhouses on an endless trek before stopping at the one the guys were looking for, only to find it was an hour wait before getting a table! The SUV took off again and we followed it another 5 or 10 miles. I practiced poise and patience. But I was damn hungry. The couple I was with--Don, in usual style, had stayed behind at the motel--got equally impatient and finally abandoned the intrepid SUV. We backtracked down the broad Clovis boulevard, returned to Fresno and finally ate at an El Torito next door to our motel! Well, finally I got to compare El Torito with Acapulco. Acapulco wins by a landslide!
We returned home just before a rainstorm and got Buckwheat out of jail. I now have a Purple Heart supporter sticker I'll be putting on my car window. If people ask wonderingly, I'll tell them: I'm a veteran of the emotional wars.

BYE FOR NOW...
Don and I are gone for four days, so this site is officially "closed" for the trip. We'll return with pix, though -- of Fresno! Beautiful resort town (Not!) FRESNO! Don is finance officer for his Purple Heart chapter and together we're going to learn the finer points of helping wounded vets get all the benefits the country they're willing to shed blood for can offer them.
Will there be fun? The sequoias are close by and I hope to get a chance to see them--in three dimensions. I plan to hug a tree. See ya!